A Little Ray of Sunshine - Hardcover

Higgins, Kristan

Hardcover

ISBN 10: 0593547608 ISBN 13: 9780593547601

Verlag: Berkley, 2023

Inhaltsangabe

A kid walks into your bookstore and… Guess what? He’s your son. The one you put up for adoption eighteen years ago. The one you never told anyone about. Surprise!
 
And a huge surprise it is.
 
It’s a huge surprise to his adoptive mother, Monica, who thought she had a close relationship with Matthew, her nearly adult son. But apparently, he felt the need to secretly arrange a vacation to Cape Cod for the summer so he could meet his birth mother…without a word to either her or his dad.
 
It’s also a surprise— to say the least—to Harlow, the woman who secretly placed her baby for adoption so many years ago. She’s spent the years since then building a quiet life. She runs a bookstore with her grandfather, hangs out with her four younger siblings and is more or less happily single, though she can’t help gravitating toward Grady Byrne, her old friend from high school. He’s moved back to town, four-year-old daughter in tow, no wife in the picture. But she’s always figured her life had to be child-free, so that complicates things.
 
When Matthew walks into Harlow’s store, she faints. Monica panics. And all their assumptions—about what being a parent really means—explode. This summer will be full of more surprises as both their families are redefined…and as both women learn that for them, there’s no limit to a mother’s love.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Kristan Higgins is the New York Times, USA Today, and Publishers Weekly bestselling author of more than twenty novels, which have been translated into more than two dozen languages and have sold millions of copies worldwide. The happy mother of two snarky and well-adjusted adults lives in Connecticut with her heroic firefighter husband, cuddly dog, and indifferent cat.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

ONE

Harlow

I didn't ask for this," I said. "Why are you tormenting me, Addie?"

"It's a lunch date," my sister said. "Don't be such a gutless wonder."

"Cancel him." I continued placing books on the new releases table of Open Book, the store I owned with my grandfather. It was the second week of June, and the Cape Cod tourism season was just about to explode. "I'm very busy."

"Addison, stunning shoes," said Destiny, the one employee not related to me, and our resident fashionista. I glanced at my sister's shoes . . . pink leather ankle boots with snakeskin straps. Tacky, if you asked me, but I tended to wear Converse most of the time.

"Gucci," Addison said proudly. "Fifteen hundred dollars. Anyway, Harlow, he's already on his way to the Ice House. It's too late to back out. I'm doing you a favor. You want what I have. Everyone does."

Destiny gave me a pained look and went to the back to get more boxes of books.

"Goggy?" asked Imogen, my two-year-old niece. "Goggy!" She was strapped in her stroller more securely than an astronaut at countdown. Her pudgy little hands reached toward my dog. Ollie was our resident literary mascot (full name: Oliver Twist), a black-and-tan little mutt I'd rescued. He whined, rightfully wary of my niece.

"Doggy is dirty, Imogen," Addie said. "Dirty dog. Nasty."

"Oliver is not dirty," I said, slicing open another box. Oh, good, the new Susan Elizabeth Phillips book! "He's afraid of your demon child."

"She's an angel," Addie lied cheerfully. "Harlow, I'm happily married, have two beautiful daughters and live in a stunning home."

"Yay for you."

"You're dying of envy. You too, Cynthia," she said to our cousin, the third partner of Open Book. Cynthia hissed in response. For once, I agreed with her. "You need to take action to fulfill your dreams," Addie continued. "Put on some lipstick." She pulled out a tube and offered it to me. "You can't stand him up. What would that do to his ego?"

I looked down at myself, clad in my usual jeans and snarky T-shirt (Books: Because people are horrible, a bestseller at my store). Dressing up for me meant combing my curly blond hair so it didn't drift into the snarl zone. "Lipstick, Addie? I haven't worn lipstick since high school. And why would I care about his ego? You go. Explain that you're a pushy, irritating sister who thinks she found the secret to happiness."

"I have, though."

I sighed. Once, I had indeed pictured myself married with a few kids. Then adulthood hit, and I wised up. That being said, I was starving, and the Ice House had the best burgers on the East Coast.

"Go," said Addison. "I can hear your stomach growling. You can eat and maybe meet your future husband."

"Some of us are happily single, Addie. Right, Cynthia?"

"I prefer not to discuss my private life, but yes, I'm fine with my own company." My brother had suggested that Cynthia ate her first husband, praying mantis style. Given the perpetually sour expression on our sixty-something-year-old cousin's face, her general hatred of humanity and her resemblance to Dolores Umbridge from Harry Potter, I could definitely agree.

My stomach growled again. The image of a massive, juicy burger tipped the scales. "Okay. But he's normal, right?"

"He seemed normal enough on his profile. If he's a serial killer, he hid it well."

"They all hide it well," I said. "That's the reason they're serial killers."

"You read too much," said my sister.

"I own a bookstore, and it's hardly a character flaw."

Cynthia stomped past. "That baby is chewing on a sixty-five-dollar book," she said. Imogen had wriggled a shoulder free and was laying waste to a book on photography.

"She's very advanced," Addie said. "Aren't you, Imogen?"

"Is she rich, though?" I asked. "Can she afford what she's eating?"

My niece smiled at me, then spit out some paper. Imogen was my sister's biological baby, the image of her (and our sister Lark, since she and Addie were identical twins). Straight blond hair, big green eyes, adorable little nose, entitled attitude. Addie's other daughter, Esme, was her wife's biological child, age five. Addison and Nicole used the same sperm donor, so the girls were half sisters, all according to Addie's plan. The universe would never defy her.

While my job had me interact with children quite a bit, I wasn't the most baby-oriented person. I'd probably like my nieces more when they were teenagers. At least the girls had my sisters-sweet, sensitive Lark; and Winnie, crusty on the surface but with a gooey center. Robbie, our brother, who was ten years younger than I, liked to see how high he could toss a kid, hopefully catching them on the way down. Add to that our parents and sweet grandfather, and the kids were all set. I didn't need to be aunt of the year.

"Did I hear someone say I had a date for lunch?" Grandpop asked, wandering in from the back room. "Wonderful!"

"Can you all just go?" Cynthia asked. "This is hardly a professional discussion. And try not to take too long. The rest of us are also entitled to a lunch break."

"Go ahead," said Destiny, coming back into the room with a box in her arms. She set it down with a thud. "Hardcover James Patterson," she said. "Cynthia and I can unpack and arrange."

"Wish Auntie Harlow luck, Imogen," Addie said. "Tell her not to bite the nice man."

"Pay for that book," I told my sister, grabbing my backpack from under the counter.

"I love lunch!" Grandpop said merrily. "And I'm famished! What should I have?"

"A cheeseburger," I said.

"Too much fat and salt," Cynthia said.

"So? He's ninety," I said, pushing the door open. Grandpop could eat whatever he wanted. My grandmother had been gone for three years now, and if a cheeseburger killed Grandpop, well, was there a better way to go? "Come on, Grandpop."

The screen door banged behind us. Open Book was that store people dreamed of owning. Housed in the three-story Victorian that had been in the family since 1843, the store had been founded in the 1980s by my grandmother. Inside, it was cheery and snug with lots of alcoves and cozy corners, a fireplace and places to sit, a little coffee bar and gift area. The children's section was in the sunny, enclosed front porch.

Outside, the garden burst with hostas and ferns, columbine and astilbe and little blue forget-me-nots. We had a couple of granite benches for scenic reading spots, and a brick pathway led to the street. It was an unofficial law that businesses in Wellfleet, Massachusetts, had glorious window boxes, gardens and, whenever possible, a resident dog. We hit all those notes, plus we had Grandpop, Wellfleet's most-loved citizen.

I slid my arm through my grandfather's, since he tended to wander. Grandpop was my favorite person, and it truly was a beautiful day to be out-clear blue sky, a breeze off the water. Main Street was in peak form . . . pink, red and white rhododendrons just now coming into full glory, the crooked old buildings awash in character and charm.

Wellfleet was my hometown, and my three sisters and brother all lived in the area. Our parents owned Long Pond Arts, a well-respected gallery that featured Mom's paintings and a few from other local artists. We Smiths knew all the locals, and most of the regular summer people, who were always so glad to be on the Cape. Robbie was a boat mechanic. Winnie had just bought into an event planning business. Lark was doing her residency at Hyannis Hospital. And Addison, the only one of us who had gotten married so far, was a stay-at-home mom, living comfortably on her wife's wealth. Nicole, Addison's soulmate in materialism, superiority and self-love, worked for her family's foundation.

I was the quiet one....

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Berkley
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2023
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0593547608
• ISBN 13: 9780593547601
• Einband: Gebundene Ausgabe
• Anzahl der Seiten: 512
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verfügbar